A Dead Secret: Obon scary stories by Lafcadio Hearn!
Posted: August 13, 2010 | Author: Doug | Filed under: Japan, Literature | 6 Comments »Continuing with theme from previous post, this is another scary story by Lafcadio Hearn, and coincides with Obon Season in Japan which is somewhat analogous to Halloween in the West. This story is called “A Dead Secret”, and originally came from Hearn’s book Kwaidan published in 1904,1 while here I am quoting parts from the Tuttle edition.
The story is about a beautiful young lady named O-Sono who was the daughter of a rich merchant who lived in the old province of Tanba. Her father wanted her to get a good education in the “polite accomplishments taught to the ladies of the capitol”, so he sent her to Kyoto with some trusted attendants. When her education was complete, she returned home and was married to a friend of her father’s and lived happily with her husband and only child for four years until she suddenly died of illness.
Then the following night, her son said that mamma had come back to her room upstairs and smiled at him saying nothing. The family went upstairs and were stunned to see:
…by the light of small lamp which had been kindled before a shrine in that room, the figure of the dead mother. She appeared as if standing in front of a tansu, or chest of drawers, that still contained her ornaments and her wearing-apparel. Her head and shoulders could be very distinctly seen; but from the waist downwards the figure thinned into invisibility;—it was like the imperfect reflection of her, and transparent as a shadow on water.
The family was greatly afraid, but the mother-in-law reasoned that the spirits of the dead were attached to their former possessions so if they cleared out the drawers and presented her possessions to the temple, the spirit would find rest. So the following morning they did this, but the ghost appeared again the following night, same as before, staring at the drawers. This occurred every night thereafter and “the house became a house of fear”.
Finally the mother-in-law consulted with a local Zen Buddhist priest named Daigen Oshō (和尚 oshō just means a senior priest or Buddhist preceptor) for help. The priest felt the spirit was still anxious about something in the drawer, but the family claimed that everything had been cleared out. So, the priest decided to stay the night in the room and see for himself what was going on.
So:
After sundown, Daigen Oshō went to the house, and found the room made ready for him. He remained there alone, reading the [Buddhist] sūtras; and nothing appeared until the Hour of the Rat [roughly midnight]. Then the figure of O-Sono suddenly outlined itself in front of the tansu. Her face had a wistful look; and she kept her eyes fixed upon the tansu.
He addressed her by her posthumous Buddhist name, or kaimyō (戒名）,2 and offered to help find whatever it was that she was concerned about. The spirit seemed to give the slightest nod, and the priest started to rummage through the empty drawers. He couldn’t find anything and was about to give up, until at last he found a small letter hidden in the lining of the bottom drawer. The ghost’s gaze fixated upon the letter, and the priest offered to burn it for her at the temple, and that no one would read it but him. She bowed, smiled and vanished.
Indeed, the spirit never returned, and the priest made good on his promise:
The letter was burned. It was a love-letter written to O-Sono in the time of her studies in Kyoto. But the priest alone knew what was in it; and the secret died with him.
Have a good, and not too scary Obon!
P.S. Robert over at Shiawase.co.uk found these interesting Japanese illustrations, both medieval and contemporary of various monsters in Japanese lore. Good catch, Robert!
1 Early romanization of Japanese tended to insert “w”‘s that seem out of place today. The Bodhisattva Kannon was spelled as “Kwannon”, and I still find this in old Buddhist hymnals to this day which drives me mad. Hymnals aside, these are oftentimes the same silly books that still refer to Kannon as the “Goddess of Mercy”. *sigh*
2 A practice that seems particularly intrinsic to Japanese Buddhism, where lay people who weren’t ordained in this life, get sort of “ordained” in the next, allowing them to be officially confirmed as disciples of the Buddha. Professor Bodiford’s somewhat dense, but very detailed study of Soto Zen in medieval Japan, reveals elaborate practices by Zen priests on this count, but from personal experience, it is still practiced today across Japanese Buddhism including the Jodo Shinshu temple here in Seattle.
Hello, this blog is about my life as a father, Buddhist and Japanophile. Any useful information I can pass along will hopefully make the 
I think it’s interesting that the clearing out of the deceased possessions is still done, to enable them to move on to the next life by having less attachment to this one. I’ve even seen leaflets for clearance services, (I think with the possessions going to a temple). My understanding of Buddhist funeral rites, that happen at various intervals for many years, is to help the spirit move on.
It might be allied to a (shinto?) belief that inanimate objects can be imbued with spirit by being used. Hence shrines with collections of old dolls, or sewing needles.
Hi Robert,
That’s very interesting actually. I had no idea the practice still exists, but I actually only know bits and pieces of funerary practices, so that’s very helpful. As to whether these are Buddhist rites or not, I think it’s a local adaptation of certain Buddhist notions, but maybe not ‘canonical Buddhism’ per se. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong either thought, as religion in text has to adapt to religion in life, IMHO.
I’ve been wanting ot write a post on Japanese Buddhism and how it relates to funeral practices, but I admit I have only scattered informaiton to work on.
Hi Doug,
My only knowledge comes from my father-in-law’s funeral last year.
I found the leaflets about clearing out possessions when the family all went shopping for a butsudan a day or so later (and for presents to give to those who came to the wake). Compared to the Catholic tradition it seemed much more matter of fact or part of life somehow. There were many traditions I’d never experienced before but my enduring memory would be my sister-in-law being very happy to be taking tou-san home in a box tied up in a white cloth on her lap in the taxi from the crematorium. (My in-laws were appalled at the idea of scattering ashes, or even just burying the deceased then going home.) Or my wife buying a present of chocolate for her father on the flight home. I didn’t understand it at the time and felt it was best not to question it. It was placed on the temporary butsudan for a day or so and then later we ate it.
I suppose my experience was much more of the secular rather than the religious which I didn’t quite understand. I do remember a sermon on tou-san’s 戒名 (you mentioned above) which unfortunately my Japanese wasn’t sufficient for.
Hi Robert,
That’s very interseting and explains a few things for me too. When our beloved pug died a few years ago (sadly just days after our little one was born), I wanted to scatter the ashes at some point, but my wife seemed really hesitant and we never followed through. He sits now in his little urn next to our makeshift altar at home (no proper Butsudan, as the ones in the U.S. are overpriced and shoddy, nor do we have the space), alongside my pet turtle who also died last year.
I’ve not experienced any Japanese funerals first-hand myself, but the temple here in the US has a large Japanese community that still has funerals there, and I’ve learned some things there too.
The notion of 戒名 seems strange to me in particular because in most cultures, when one formally becomes a Buddhist, they get a Dharma name of some kind at that point, not after they die, but I assume that since people in Japan are sort of born into Buddhism, rather than making a formal conversion effort, that may explain the discrepancy. In the end, a name is just a name. In the case of Zen temples, I’ve read about actual ordination ceremonies, taking the precepts, and even getting a lineage chart after death in some cases. Local practices will no doubt vary too.
Having lived in Japan for more than 30 years, I have had more experience with funerary practices than I would have liked. I would say the biggest shock was a small group of mourners participates in the cremation, including placing the cremains (still quite recognizable–cranium fragments, finger and leg bones–not ground up American style) in the urn using special chopsticks.
I was encouraged at the last funeral I went to–usually funeral guests are given little packets of salt to ‘purify’ themselves of any negativity before entering their home. However, this time, there was a little pamphlet that said ‘we don’t distribute salt because there is no impurity from the dead’ or something like that. It was done by the Otani school (is that Jodo or Shin, I’m not sure). Anyway, FWIW.
Hi John, the Otani school is the Higashi Honganji school of Jodo Shinshu. That sounds pretty typical of Jodo Shinshu but yes it is encouraging to hear.
Great story by the way, thanks for sharing!